


A Summoning of Things Past

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Romance, Series: Nothing Lasts Forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-06
Updated: 1999-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Striving to deal with the spectre of loneliness, friends share confidences. This story is a sequel toOf Past Regret and Future Fear.





	A Summoning of Things Past

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private

A reminder, I am now writing under my penname of Cassandra Hope.

 

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Rated PG (angst, adult situations)

A Summoning of Things Past

By Cassandra Hope

(Copyright June 1998)

 

__

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste.

Shakespeare--Sonnet VI

 

"Y

o,  
Fraser," Detective Ray Vecchio shot at his partner. "What's it with you?  
You haven't heard a word I've said."

"Oh, uh...sorry, Ray," Constable Benton Fraser apologized.

"So?"

"So...what?"

"Honestly, Fraser, getting you to talk is like squeezing a confession out of brick wall." Ray pulled the Riviera to the curb in front of Ben's apartment building. Curiosity aroused, he turned to face the Mountie. "So...you gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

Ben stared ahead not really wanting to tell Ray about his problems. An awkward silence settled within the confines of the Buick broken only by the shifting of the wolf in the backseat. Finally, Ben cleared his throat and mumbled, "Family problems."

Ray's eyebrows drew together. Had he heard right? "Family problems? As in **family**?" Ben nodded his head. Surprise barely described Ray's thoughts. Flabbergasted was more accurate. Who would have thought it of the straight-laced Mountie? Frankly, once upon a time, Ray had had his doubts that Fraser even knew what to do with a woman. Now he knew better--especially after the affair with Victoria and getting to know Cat Madden. But...it seemed like Fraser had turned even stranger since his return from his visit with Cat several months ago. It seemed to Ray like he never quite knew what to expect from his friend anymore. Had he hunted up a prostitute? Mentally shaking his head, Ray discarded that thought. But then again, Fraser was not exactly himself these days. Maybe he **had** found a woman. He cleared his throat more as a delaying tactic than anything else. "So, uh..." How could he put this delicately? "Who's the lucky woman?"

Ben turned to stare at Ray, incomprehension plain on his face. "I don't believe I understand your question, Ray."

Embarrassed for his friend, Ray rephrased his question, "Who's the mother?"

"Whose mother?"

"Yeah, who's the mother?"

The wide-eyed Mountie look in full sway, Ben slowly shook his head. "Ray, I have absolutely no idea what you're alluding to."

Ray stared at Ben. Things must be really bad. Maybe some broad was hitting him up for a paternity suit. "Benny, if you ain't the father, a simple blood test will prove it." When there was no reply from his friend, Ray's voice edged upward, "That is...unless you **are** the father."

"Ray...what are you talking about?"

"Well...you said you had family problems..." Ray cocked his head. "Answer me truthfully...are you in trouble?"

"What kind of trouble?"

"You know!" Ray made suitable motions with his hands.

"I do **not** know!"

"Did you get some woman pregnant?" The words exploded from Ray.

"Of course not!"

"Whew! You had me going there for a minute, Benny."

"What ever gave you that idea, Ray?"

"Well...family problems? What am I supposed to think?"

"That family problems means family problems as in **family** problems." Ben made his own suitable hand gestures.

"Yeah, as if that tells me anything! Honestly, you are the most irritating man I know! Why can't you just say what the problem is instead of disguising it as something else."

"I am not disguising this as something else. I'm just worried about Becka."

Momentarily shocked into silence, Ray stared at his friend. Ever since that incident over a year ago, Ray had heard little about Rebecca Fraser. Ben rarely spoke of her and Ray knew better than to ask. He vividly remembered Ben's intense grilling as to his intentions regarding his sister. "Becka? This is about your sister?" Ben nodded his head. 

Sighing with relief, Ray snarled, "Why didn't you say so in the first place? We could've avoided this whole conversation." He slapped the back of the car seat for emphasis. "Now, let that wolf out before he does something on my upholstery **you'll** regret."

"Dief would never soil your seat, Ray."

"Yeah, whatever. Just let him out, okay?"

Ben nodded and opened the car door. Climbing out, he pulled the seat back forward. Dief shot out of the backseat and headed toward the alley. Ray climbed out on the other side, slammed the door closed, and came around to stand beside Ben. They both waited for the wolf to reappear.

Reaching inside his suit jacket, Ray retrieved his cell phone. Flipping it open, he queried his friend, "What'll it be? Chinese or pizza?"

"You promised Dief a pizza."

"And he's gonna hold me to that?"

"Well, he did help locate that warehouse..."

"I know, but his own pizza?"

"With his choice of toppings."

"All right already...sheesh! I just don't know of any pizza places that have moose or walrus toppings."

Dief reappeared and barked sharply at the two men before running into the apartment building.

"What was that all about?"

"He said _'hamburger and Canadian bacon would be just fine'_ ," Ben called over his shoulder as he followed the wolf into the building.

Ray rolled his eyes. "Hamburger and Canadian bacon..." he mumbled under his breath. Dialing, he placed an order for three pizzas, two deep-dish Sicilian and one meat extravaganza. What the hell, Benny was right, Dief had single-handedly (or was that pawedly) led them to a warehouse on the waterfront--a warehouse now under surveillance by Jack Huey and his current partner. Tomorrow, he and Fraser would take over the surveillance. Ray mentally groaned. Surveillance was undoubtedly one of his least favorite duties. Following the Mountie and wolf to their apartment, Ray closed the door behind him.

* * *

The investigation was complete, the indictments drawn up. All that remained was the raid on the headquarters of the 'Soldier' organization. Constable Rebecca Fraser waited patiently for word of its success or failure. She crossed her arms on the desk and rested her face on them, her golden brown hair pooling around her head. It had to succeed, she'd invested too much time and effort for it not to. Her mind shied away from just how much time and effort it had cost her. Hopefully, her experiences as 'Soldier 12' were about to pay off.

Becka raised her head only then noticing Sergeant Jacques Soulliere leaning in the doorway of his office. She briefly rested her chin on her hand before shoving her chair back. Smiling bleakly at him, she grabbed her coffee cup and headed toward the small lunchroom. Perhaps the aromatic brew would ease her thoughts. Perhaps she needed to stretch her legs against the enforced idleness. Perhaps she just needed to get away from Soulliere's piercing eyes. Whatever, she was little prepared for the empty pot sitting on the coffeemaker.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Becka watched her hand reach out and grasp the empty pot and draw it back. Before she could throw the pot across the room, a pair of hands captured it and placed it safely back on the coffee machine. Becka watched as Soulliere dumped out the old coffee grounds and replaced them with fresh. Soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the confines of the small room. Shakily setting her cup down on the nearest table, Becka slumped against the wall, finally sliding down it to sit on the floor. She drew her knees up and rested her forehead on them.

The weight of a hand on her shoulder brought her face up. Soulliere squatted beside her. "I'm sorry, Sergeant. I...I just..."

"Waiting is the hardest part, Constable."

"It's not the waiting, dammit! It's the not being there."

Soulliere's dark head nodded in agreement. "Understood. I want to be there just as much as you do. I want to blow them all back to hell..." He paused, the anger ebbing from his voice, "What I want and what you want are not important. What's important is that this raid is successful. You and I are too close to this to be impartial--not make it a personal vendetta."

Becka stared at Soulliere seeing the glittering anger that mirrored her own buried in the depths of his slate blue eyes. Maybe she was wrong about him; maybe he was different from the others. In little more than a whisper, she asked, "You?"

Soulliere nodded. "My brother, Claude..."

Becka clasped the hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, sir."

Acknowledging Becka's understanding with a short bob of his head, Soulliere's visage took on a grim cast. "Don't be, Constable. Claude took out two of the soldiers before they got him. He prevented the assassination of two World Trade Commission delegates during their meeting three years ago." Rising to his feet, Soulliere extended a hand. "Here, let me help you up."

"Thank you kindly, sir." Becka accepted the extended hand and rose to her feet. Accepting a cup of coffee from Soulliere, she stared into the depths of the cup. "I just wish there was some way that I could be certain that everything was going according to plan--that nothing unforeseen was happening. I hope I remembered everything correctly."

"Don't worry, Constable. The information you provided was more than we've managed to gather in over eight years of concerted effort. Without your knowledge this raid would not be possible."

"I know that, sir. It's just that I...I don't know if I remembered all the booby traps and passwords and times and..."

"Constable Fraser...Rebecca..." Soulliere's hand rested on Becka's shoulder once more, "...you've got to stop second guessing yourself. The teams we've sent in are specialists in this sort of thing. All they needed was the information you supplied. They can handle it from there."

Becka glanced away from Soulliere. "I know that, sir. I just wish I could be out there making sure everything was going all right." Lifting her eyes, she watched Soulliere study her. There were questions in his eyes--questions he wouldn't ask. Becka sighed; she had her suspicionslittle things that she'd overheard, sudden silences when she came too near, a wary look. They didn't trust her. She was almost certain that Soulliere had been ordered to watch her--not let her out of his sights. She couldn't really blame them. No one was sure just how deep the 'soldier' conditioning extended and no one wanted to chance its resurfacing, triggered by some unknown stimulus.

Momentarily she felt sorry for herself. The daughter of Robert Fraser, a legend in his own time, she had had a brilliant career in front of her until she had disappeared only to later emerge as 'Soldier 12'. It seemed that Robert Fraser's offspring were destined to upset the powers-that-be. Becka had learned of the circumstances under which her brother, Benton Fraser, had been 'exiled' to Chicago. She had a feeling that once this 'soldier' affair was over, a similar fate awaited her.

Sensing the bleakness of her thoughts, Soulliere could only imagine what those might be. An idea surfaced and he smiled conspiratorially. "Grab your coat, Constable. We're going for a ride."

Becka tilted her head to one side and studied his face trying to read his expression. "A ride?"

"We may not be able to participate in the raid, but we can sure as hell wait at the command center."

Half an hour later a nondescript black sedan pulled off the highway and headed down a small two-lane road. Ten minutes later it again turned off the rural thoroughfare onto a small gravel road and approached the tiny house at the end. Parking the car beside the dilapidated pick-up and equally disreputable car, Becka and Soulliere climbed out of the sedan only to be halted by a voice out of the dark.

"Identify yourselves."

Hands raised in the air, Becka and Soulliere searched for the source of the voice. "Sergeant Jacques Soulliere and Constable Rebecca Fraser."

"Show some identification. One at time," the voice warned as both Becka and Soulliere reached for a pocket. Soulliere then Becka retrieved their RCMP identification and held them aloft. A hand snaked from behind and took the small wallets from them. A figure with a flashlight came

around and stood in front of them. Shining the flashlight alternately between the ID's and their faces, the man grunted then handed the ID's back. "Inside. You've got some explaining to do."

By the time they reached the porch of the house, two other men had joined them. Ushered into the small living room, the first man approached the group of people gathered in front of a large computer workstation.

"They're what?" A voice rose from the general hubbub and Inspector Ian McAlester turned to stare at the pair. Separating himself from the group around the computer monitors, he approached Becka and Soulliere. "I believe you were ordered to stay back at headquarters, Sergeant."

"Actually, sir, we were instructed not to take part in this operation. Nothing was said about observing it from this COM center." Soulliere straightened his back to match Becka's stance.

Noting the resolution in Soulliere's voice and knowing the background of both officers, McAlester gruffly acquiesced, "Very well. Just stay out of the way. You..." he pointed to Becka, "...maybe you can help identify these images we're receiving from the teams in the field."

Becka nodded and moved closer to the computer monitors. A place was made for her and a chair soon appeared. She dropped down onto it and stared intently at the scenes shown on the three separate monitors. "It looks like all three teams have penetrated the outer perimeter." Becka leaned closer to the screen and pointed to a large tree. "Tell this team that there is an infrared detector planted in the bole of this tree. It will detect anything half a meter above the ground." She turned to McAlester. "They're going to have to crawl to get past it."

"Can they take it out?"

Becka shook her head. "The moment one of the detectors goes off-line an alarm is sounded."

The message was relayed to the team and the perspective of the tree in question changed as the men dropped down and inched forward on their hands and knees. Each of the teams in turn was directed away from any IR detectors in their paths. Soon the teams approached the large complex of buildings that made up the Brookside Rehabilitation Clinic.

"The fence is electrified."

"We know, Constable." They watched the three teams don rubber gloves and cut openings in the wire of the fence.

"What about the dogs?"

"Taken care of." Again they watched as a pair of rotweilers streaked into view and began barking. One of the men in the team tossed a package toward the dogs. Sniffing suspiciously at the package, the dogs soon tore it open and avidly devoured the meat inside. Moments later the dogs sagged to the ground. 

"If I remember correctly, there are four pairs of dogs."

"They'll be dealt with." They watched as each pair of rotweilers was drugged into unconsciousness.

"Won't someone investigate the barking?" Soulliere questioned from the background.

Becka shook her head. "They bark at just about everything--rabbits, squirrels, patients, you name itthey bark at it. As long as the barking doesn't continue for very long, no one notices. They should be okay."

Becka watched the teams approach the building that contained the administrative offices of the complex. Something nagged at the back of her mind, something important. What was it? Staring at the screen, she mentally placed herself in the shoes of the man wearing the optics. Unawares, she muttered under her breath, "Don't touch the guardrail...good..." She watched the hand move to press the entry button for the numerical pad at the door. "No!"

"Stop!" McAlester spoke into the mike. The hand stopped barely grazing the enter button. Turning to Becka, McAlester asked, "What should he do, Fraser."

Becka stared at the screen, visualizing her hand approaching the pad. She had visited the administrative offices only once and it was one of her 'doctors' that actually used the pad. She closed her eyes to better see what needed to be done. "Press reset...set...end...then the number sequence." McAlester relayed the instructions and they watched as the hand pressed the required buttons. They held their collective breath as they waited for confirmation that the inputted data was correct. The steady red light glared balefully at them. Suddenly it flickered out to be replaced by a green light. Becka released her held breath thankful that she'd remembered the sequence of buttons. But there was still something more that she needed to recall. Maybe it would come to her as she guided the teams into the bowels of the 'Soldier' organization.

"Step only on the black tiles. The rest are pressure sensitive." The information was duly passed to the teams now stealthily moving down the darkened hallway. "Take the next corridor to the left." The team dutifully turned into the next hallway. They passed several doors with lights behind them.

The last doorway beckoned them. The lock yielded to the lockpick and the team cautiously entered the darkened room. A doorway behind them opened and two men stepped out into the

hall. The infiltration team froze, praying that the men wouldn't see them.

Laughter drifted down the corridor to them. One of the men dropped a file on the floor, papers spilling from it. The men bent down to recover the scattered papers. Gathering the papers together, the two men stood and stared down the corridor at the open door of the computer archives. Clearly silhouetted in the dim security light of the room were three men dressed in black. The two men dove back into the room they had exited and slammed the door shut.

"Get them out of there now!" Becka's voice rose.

"Pull back! Pull back! Get out of there!" Inspector McAlester shouted into his headset. The team began its retreat as the hallway was suddenly lit by an eerie red glow.

"Dammit! Get out of there! Don't stop--get out of there!" She grabbed a headset. "Get out of there! Don't stop for anything! They'll blow the building just to keep you from getting away! Get out of there!"

Gunfire erupted and was returned as the teams slowly made their way back down the hallway. Peering around the corner, the team leader reported back to the COM center, "We're pinned down. The hallway is covered by a crossfire."

McAlester turned to Becka. "Is there another way out?"

Becka closed her eyes trying to picture the inside of the administration building. "The only way out of that hallway is the main corridor or through a window in one of the offices."

Instructions relayed, they watched the team retreat down the hallway to the door of the computer archives. Gunfire spattered the hallway floor and walls as they dove through it. Quick work was made of the window, but the view from optics was lost as an explosion ripped through the building tossing the men onto the floor.

"No! Get out of there!" But the explosion covered any instructions Becka could give the men trapped in the building. A sullen boom reached them and the windows in the tiny house rattled. Rushing outside, they stared in the direction of the complex. The night sky burned with a hungry red glow.

"Oh no." Becka sank to the ground and covered her face with her hands. She'd failed them. "No...no..."

Rough hands grabbed her and dragged her to the sedan she'd arrived in. Souillere opened the door. "Get in, Fraser. We've got to get to those men."

Not stopping to question what was happening, Becka settled into the seat and stared at the other vehicles roaring to life. Minutes later the small entourage topped a hill. The sky burned with an angry red interspersed with flashes of near blinding white. A continuous rumble assaulted her ears as she stared at the conflagration that had once been the Brookside Rehabilitation Clinic.

Soulliere stopped his car and they climbed from its interior. Inspector McAlester and several men poured from the other car. They stared at the vehicles moving toward the conflagration. Shocked, they watched men crawl from the various buildings.

"This is all your fault! You led them into a trap, Fraser. Becka..."

* * *

"Casey? Are you ready?" Phil McKenzie glanced around the small motel room checking to see if anything remained.

"Hold your horses, Phil." Casey Sinclair closed the case containing her notebook computer before throwing on a faded blue denim shirt over the baby pink T-shirt that clung nicely to her feminine form. "How about a cup of coffee before we leave."

"Sounds great." Phil rolled up the sleeves of her lavender plaid shirt as she followed the blonde haired woman out of the motel room and closed the door behind them. Depositing their packs in the back of the jeep, the two women strolled across the parking lot to the small coffee shop.

"I don't suppose you'd turn down a fresh muffin?" Casey asked as the waitress poured them a cup of coffee.

Phil grinned. "You know me too well, Casey." She ordered muffins for both of them.

A mischievous twinkle in her eye, Casey chided, "You'd better watch out, Phil, or you're going to get as fat as a pig."

Phil chuckled. "Don't hold your breath, Casey. I don't have time to get fat." Casey smiled at her good friend and bit into her muffin. Phil bit into hers and the two women ate their simple breakfast.

"Phil, are you sure about this? I mean, I don't want to pry or anything. Everyone knows that you still love him..." Casey swirled her coffee with a spoon. 

Phil finished lathering her muffin with butter then bit into it with relish. "Everyone thinks I still love him. I don't, Casey. I'm finally over him." 

"Still...do you think it's wise to stir up old fires?" The spoon traced ever-widening loops on the tablecloth. 

"Maybe...maybe not. But maybe, just maybe if I tell you the whole story, I can finally lay his ghost to rest. In a way this trip is my way of saying goodbye to him. I think I'm finally ready to move on with my life." Phil smiled at Casey but the smile did not quite reach her eyes. "Besides,

this might give you an idea for your next book. Maybe something good can come from my experiences. Are you ready now?" Phil asked before taking another bite from her muffin. Finishing that, she downed the last of her coffee.

asey grinned and nodded her head. She swallowed the last sip of her coffee and rose from the table. "I'll pay for this and catch up with you."

"Okay." Phil tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans and strolled toward the jeep. Taking a deep breath, she sighed with contentment. As much as she enjoyed living in Chicago she knew that the mountains were where she belonged. How could she reconcile this with Martin's obvious love of the city? He would be like a fish out of water anywhere except a 4-star resort. 

Casey soon joined her and they climbed into the vehicle. Pulling away from the motel, they headed up the highway into the mountains. Forty minutes later they turned onto a narrow road that wound along the bank of a stream. The jeep slowed and pulled off to the side of the road near a fenced enclosure. Through the trees, Casey saw the stream dancing over rocks in its bed, the mountains in the distance forming a backdrop. The music of the water added to the peaceful atmosphere of the sylvan glade.

Phil turned the engine off and stared straight ahead. Of the things she planned to do with Casey this week, this was the hardest. Perhaps that was why this was their first stop. She turned her head slightly and gazed at the small enclosure. Nothing had changed. Opening the door of the jeep, Phil climbed out and stood beside the jeep staring at the well-kept grounds surrounded by the fence. "Casey...could you give me a few minutes alone."

Casey smiled sadly. "Of course, Phil. Take all the time you need."

"Thanks." Phil approached the gate in the fence and, lifting the latch, entered the small cemetery. Her feet carried her to the far corner of the enclosure where a profusion of flowers bloomed. Kneeling in front of the luxurious bed, she unconsciously pulled some weeds from it. The columbines bobbed in the slight breeze.

Phil swallowed, suddenly fighting tears. She blinked her eyes but a lone tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Ignoring it, she brushed the mass of flowers away from the small headstone. "Hello, Lindy."

Casey leaned against the jeep and watched Phil kneel before the grave of her daughter. All too familiar with the pain of losing a loved one, her heart ached for her friend. The image of the slender, dark haired woman kneeling before a grave captured her thoughts and planted the seed of a story. Quickly, she retrieved her notebook and settled onto the front seat of the jeep and began typing. The words flowed from her fingers and, with a start, she realized that Phil no longer knelt in the cemetery but stood beside her open door. Guiltily, Casey saved her story and turned off her computer. "I'm sorry, Phil."

"Don't be, Casey. That's one of the reasons why we're here--to help you find a story. And it looks like you've found something?" Phil's voice lifted in a question.

"I don't know, yet, but I think so."

Phil smiled. "Come on. Let me introduce you to Lindy." Phil led Casey back to the small gravesite. "When I moved to Chicago, I brought all the columbines that I didn't take with me and planted them here. The groundskeeper said that a flowerbed would be welcome and he takes care of it for me. He's told me that many of the people that visit have commented on the flowers." She paused. "I think Lindy would have liked them."

"They're beautiful, Phil." Casey glanced around. "This is lovely. How did you find this cemetery?"

"I used to live not far from here. I always thought this was such a beautiful spot."

"It is."

Phil nodded and choked on her next words. "I wanted Lindy to have nothing but beauty and peace in her life. She has that here." Casey put her arms around Phil sharing her sorrow. "I'm sorry, Casey. You would think that I'd be over her death by now."

"Phil, no one ever gets over the loss of someone you love. Don't apologize for being human." Casey, too, felt the bittersweet pain of the loss of her husband, Jim.

Phil smiled and nodded her head in agreement. Briefly she wondered if that held true for the loss of someone's love. She thought about her newest boyfriend, Martin Stevenson. Could Martin be the one to help her get over the loss of Ben's love?

The two women shared a few moments of mutual sadness before turning and retracing their steps to the jeep. 

* * *

Ben stared into the depths of the small refrigerator. "I need to run down to the corner store, Ray. I don't have anything suitable to drink, unless you'd care for some coffee?"

"That's okay, Benny. I'm having some beer delivered with the pizza. And yes...I remembered the hamburger and Canadian bacon," Ray answered the wolf. Dief yawned widely and padded off to settle on the bed.

"Thank you kindly, Ray. That was very thoughtful of you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ray watched Ben remove his tunic and hang it in the closet before entering the small bath. Ray could hear water running. He took the opportunity to remove his suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Grateful for the cool spell currently gracing Chicago, Ray mentally thanked his lucky stars that Ben's apartment wasn't it's usual sauna. Too bad the cool spell wouldn't last more than a few more days.

Wandering over to the bricked-in fireplace, Ray ran an eye over the pictures gathered there. At first he didn't notice the one lying face down on the mantel stuffed under the potted plant, but the rip down the center of it caught his eye. He carefully tilted the potted plant, releasing a wave of fragrance, and removed the pieces. He stared at the two women in the photo. The hand that snaked out and tore them from his grasp startled him. Spinning around he caught a brief glimpse of sadness on Ben's face before he stuffed the fragments in the pocket of his jodhpurs.

"I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean to intrude."

Ben was surprised by the resentment he felt toward his friend. After all, it was only a picture--a picture he had torn in two. Seeking to make amends, Ben drew the fragments from his pocket and stared down at them. His heart ached as he noticed how the tear had destroyed most of Phil's face--just as he'd destroyed her love. Shaking those morbid thoughts from his mind, he handed the half with Cat on it to Ray.

Ray took the fragment and smiled. "The lovely Cat Madden. Damn but I envy that Hope fellow. He's getting one hell of a woman." A sharp indrawn breath drew Ray's eyes from the picture to Ben. Loneliness burned in the Mountie's eyes. "I'm sorry, Benny. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

Ben shrugged. "It wasn't meant to be, Ray. Cat told me that years ago, I just didn't want to believe it."

Ray clapped a hand onto Ben's shoulder. "Don't worry, Benny. The right woman will come along someday."

Ben nodded his head and surreptitiously glanced at the other half of the photo. He knew better, the right woman had already come along and disappeared into his past. There wouldn't be a someday for him. That someday was gone and there was no way to recapture it.

Ray continued to stare at the photo fragment. He could see a partial face. "Who's this with Cat?"

Startled, Ben handed his fragment to Ray before he realized what he was doing. He watched Ray place the fragments together. Ben already knew from experience that the tear distorted Phil's image and nothing he had tried could repair the damage to it. Ray would only see a dark haired woman. He wouldn't see the sparkle in the depths of her soft brown eyes or the crooked grin that endowed that face with a beauty all its own. No, Ray wouldn't see that because he'd destroyed it with a single act of anger.

"Well, who is she?" Frustrated, Ray asked again.

"A friend of Cat's. Someone she rescued last summer."

"Oh." Ray stared at the pieces of the photo before placing them on the mantel. He knew that Ben had taken Cat's refusal hard and had noticed the strained note in Ben's voice. Needing something to steer the conversation away from that painful subject, Ray searched his mind finally seizing on the perfect thing. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch. "If that pizza doesn't get here in the next three minutes, it's a freebie."

"Ray!"

"Well, they're the ones that made the promise to deliver within a half an hour. I'm just holding them to that promise."

"I suppose the pizza place is on the other side of town, thus insuring a late delivery?"

Glad that his diversion had worked, Ray continued to argue with Ben, "Nah, I actually called a local place. Two minutes."

A knock on the door of the small apartment, sent Ray to answer it. To his chagrin, a smiling pizza delivery boy stood framed by the doorway. After paying the delivery boy, the two men settled at the small table to enjoy their pizzas. Dief wolfed his down and, now, shamelessly, begged for more.

"Diefenbaker, you've had all you're going to get. Now thank Ray for your pizza and start acting like a wolf instead of a...a scavenger."

Dief growled and slunk away to recline on the bed once more. If he played his cards right, there would be an opportunity later to 'scavenge' leftover pizza. Right now, though, a low profile was called for.

Ray took a swig from his bottle of beer. Snagging another slice of deep-dish Sicilian pizza, he motioned with his hand. "The best in Chicago, didn't I tell you?"

"Uh huh," Ben muttered noncommittally.

"So...you gonna tell me about these family problems that involve Becka and not some skirt out to catch you?" He smiled slightly. It would be nice to see Becka again and he was just a little curious to know what would bring Becka back to Chicago and why that trip had Ben so worried.

"I'm worried about Becka."

"Yeah, you said that earlier. What's to worry about?"

"I talked with her a week ago. She's coming next week to visit."

"Really? And this has you worried?"

"No, not exactly, Ray. It's what she said, or more truthfully, what she didn't say." Ben ran a finger around the inside of the pizza box scraping loose cheese into a ball.

"Would you care to explain that?" Honestly, getting a confession from a brick wall **would** be easier than getting Benny to say anything more than the bare facts.

"She didn't tell me why she wanted to visit, only that she needed to get away from Ottawa for a bit. She's coming here next week then she's going to visit Cat."

"That still doesn't explain why you're worried about her." Ray took another swig from his beer.

"I don't think she's happy, Ray. She says that she doesn't feel like anyone trusts her. The only positions she's been offered are to extremely remote locations."

"Places you'd like."

"Yes, but Becka is different from me. She likes the big city."

"Yeah, Ottawa--cultural hub of the world."

"Ottawa is quite a cosmopolitan city, Ray."

"Yeah, whatever. So...Becka's not going to stay with her specialized group?" Ray finished his piece of pizza and reached for another.

"Evidently she's only been working with them to bring down the Soldiers. Now that that is done, they have suggested that she needs to _'broaden her horizons'_." Ben's face showed his concern.

Ray nodded his head in sympathy. " _'Don't call us...we'll call you.'_ I'm sorry, Fraser."

"I guess that Becka is spending this time with Cat and me trying to decide what to do. Frankly, Ray, I don't know if I can help her."

Motioning for Ben to take another piece of pizza, Ray replied, "Benny, you can't make her decisions. All you can do is be there to support whatever she decides. Besides...I'm sure Cat will whip her into shape so there's really nothing for you to worry about." Slapping his hands down on

the tabletop, Ray glanced around the spartan apartment. "So...where's she gonna stay? Here?"

"Of course, she'll stay here."

"Then don't let Ma find out. You know what she'll say."

Ben's eyes widened. The thought of his sister staying in the Vecchio house was not one he wished to contemplate. As much as Frannie had detested Cat Madden, there was no telling what she'd do to his sister. No, there was no way he'd subject Becka to Frannie's presence.

"Frankly, I don't know how you're gonna do that. You know that Ma will want you to bring your sister over for dinner one evening."

"I'll check with Becka, but I'm pretty sure that she'll want to stay here with me." 

"Whatever...so...when does she get here?" Thinking back to the time when they had rescued Becka, he remembered the effect she'd had on him then. Would he still feel the same way about her? Could she be the one to make him forget about Casey? Why was he still thinking of Casey?

Ben noticed the sly smile that curved Ray's mouth. Warily, he asked, "Ray...I hope you don't think what I think you're thinking?"

"Now what would that be, Benny?" Ray refocused his attention on his friend.

"You know."

"Nope." Ray shook his head for emphasis.

"Becka is nothing like Cat."

A light glimmered in Ray's mind. "Oh, I see. You don't want me taking advantage of your little sister." 

"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that, but, essentially, yes."

"Don't worry, Benny. I won't." No, as much as that thought was appealing, the only woman he wanted to take advantage of was out in the wilds of Montana. Why did thoughts of Casey intrude at times like these? Quickly reining in his errant thoughts, Ray stated matter-of-factly, "And besides, I'm sure Becka is quite capable of looking out for herself."

"You're probably right, Ray."

"You know I am. So, when's she coming?"

"Why?"

"Well, I gotta make plans."

"What plans?" Ben asked suspiciously.

"Well, I suppose you will want me to pick her up at the airport, won't you?"

"I'd appreciate that, Ray."

"No problemo, Benny. Now, I gotta get going. Ma's expecting me to run her over to Aunt Elena's so's they can plan little Gina's confirmation. Just be glad you ain't Catholic, Benny. Christenings, confirmations, I tell ya, we got a ceremony for everything." Ray stalked out of the

apartment. Before the door closed, he turned and called out, "I'll pick you up at the usual time." 

"Thank you kindly, Ray."

* * *

"Becka? Becka! Wake up!" Cat Madden shook Becka's shoulder once more.

Becka slowly opened her eyes and uncurled her body from the ball she'd become as the nightmare ran its course. Staring at the woman leaning over the bed, she felt momentarily at a loss. "Cat? What happened?"

"You had one hell of a nightmare! That's what happened. I could hear you all the way downstairs." Cat sat on the side of the bed. "Want to talk about it?"

Becka glanced at the clock on the bedside table--11:30--too early to be having one of these nightmares. Closing her eyes, she still saw the night sky aglow with those hellish fires. No! She wouldn't let that night rule her life. She sat up in the bed and ran a hand through her hair. "Not really, but I don't think that will stop you from asking," she wryly replied to her friend.

Cat squeezed Becka's shoulder. "I'll pour us a tall glass of milk and we can have some of that fig cake I made yesterday."

"Milk and **fig** cake? That's some heavy duty ammunition, Cat."

Cat grinned. "Only for a Fraser, Becka, only for a Fraser. I'll go and cut the cake." Cat left Becka and headed down the stairs to her ample kitchen. As she descended the stairs she accidentally brushed against a picture on her wall of photos knocking it down. Bending to retrieve it, she brushed against another one and it, too, fell. Groaning, Cat tried to catch it before it broke.

"Having some trouble?" Becka joked as she caught the errant photo.

Cat accepted the photo from Becka and, catching a glimpse of the images captured within, said, "No more than I'd expect from these two." She stared at the broken hangers on the back of the frames. She would have to replace them before she could rehang them in their customary place on her wall of photos.

"Oh? Problems with some old boyfriends?" Becka had caught a glimpse of darkly handsome man in the photo she'd rescued. His arm was draped over the shoulders of a dark haired woman. She assumed it was Cat.

Cat shook her head and playfully swatted Becka. "I never have problems with old boyfriends. Anyway, you know I'm through with all of that." She glowed with happiness. "I've found the right man for me."

"Yeah, yeah, I know...your soul mate. You've spoken of little else since I got here." Following Cat down the staircase, Becka continued, "Frankly, Cat, you make him out to be such a great man that I think I should go out to that family gathering you've mentioned and try him out for myself! What do you think?" Becka struck an exaggerated pose, plumping the golden brown curls of hair that framed her elfin face. "Do you think Lloyd would go for a svelte, sophisticated..."

"Don't you even think it, Becka!" Cat laughed over her shoulder. "I don't relish the thought of having to deflate that overactive ego of yours."

"My ego? My ego?" Becka watched Cat place the two photos on the bench then open the refrigerator and peer within. 

Retrieving a large bottle of milk, Cat opened a cabinet door and two glasses appeared. Leaning against the bench, she waved a finger at Becka. "Svelte? Sophisticated? Don't you mean scrawny, city girl?" Cat shook her head. "Definitely not Lloyd's type!"

Becka drew up a stool beside the bench and settled onto it as Cat poured milk into the two glasses. The fingers of her left hand idly traced the frame of one of the pictures. Curious, she turned it over, surprised to see the faces that grinned up at her. "I don't remember this photo."

"Hmmm?" Cat licked her finger then the knife she'd used to cut the fig cake. "What did you say?"

"I said I don't remember this photo." Becka turned the photo around to where Cat could see the two men leaning against a metallic green car.

"I'm not surprised. That was taken shortly after Ben transferred to Chicago. Ray Vecchio is Ben's best friend. But you already know that, don't you?" Cat watched Becka turn the picture around and stare at the images of the two men.

A tongue tip darted out to moisten the lips that were suddenly dry. Becka nodded her head before whispering, "I nearly killed him...and Benny."

Cat took the photo from Becka's hands and placed it back on the bench. "Becka..." Cat tilted Becka's chin up and stared her in the eye. "Becka, that was another person. You couldn't hurt Ben. The love you two have for each other is what saved you. Ben knows that and I think, deep down, you know it, too. It's about time you stopped punishing yourself for something you had no control over."

"But..."

"But...nothing. It's over and done with and you're back where you belong." Placing several slices of the fig cake on a couple of plates, she then sealed the cake back in its tin.

Becka turned her attention back to the photos on the bench. She stared at Ray's image summoning the memories of their brief time together. It had been a little over a year ago that she'd last seen Ray Vecchio. They had parted amiably but, even as much as Becka might desire it, she had known that there could be nothing but friendship between them. Sighing, she glanced up as Cat placed a glass of milk in front of her.

"Let's move out onto the veranda. There's a breeze from the lake and it's cooler out there. We might as well be comfortable while we talk." She picked up the other photo motioning for Becka to bring the one of Ben and Ray. They carried their glasses of milk and the photos out onto the veranda and Becka settled into one of the large chairs just made for times such as this. Cat left for a moment, returning with the plates of fig cake. After letting the cats out of the house, she, too, settled into a large chair. Leaning back, she rested her feet on the railing of the porch. Bella and Sheila joined the two women, claiming a spot on the settee. The bright moonlight bathed the porch in a pale glow.

Becka sipped her milk and nibbled at the fig cake. Her eyes were drawn to Ray's picture once more. Finally, she laid it down on the table between them. "You want to know what I really regret about that business with Benny and Ray?"

"What?"

Becka grinned as the moonlight danced in her eyes. "I regret not making the most of the opportunity I had. I should have spent at least one night with him. Something tells me he would have been a fantastic lover."

Taken by surprise, Cat choked on her milk and began coughing. Becka patted her on the back until she regained control of herself.

"I'm sorry, Becka. You just took me by surprise."

"Me? I find that hard to believe, Cat. What surprised you? That I have these 'cravings' or that I'd even admit it?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It was your remark about him being a fantastic lover. It caught me by surprise."

"Why?" Becka watched Cat look everywhere but at her. "Cat? You didn't?" Becka caught the guilty look as Cat's eyes slid past her. "You did?"

Grinning cheekily, Cat shrugged. "Well, you know me and how I am around a desirable man."

Becka chuckled. "Do I ever...you just can't wait to get into his pants."

"Becka! I'm shocked!"

"Yeah, sure. I just bet you are." Cat laughed and Becka joined her mirth. Something still puzzled her and when the chuckles ceased, she said, "But...I thought you and Ray didn't get along all that well. Something about not being able to stomach each other. Something must've changed. I'm curious, what happened?"

"I took a month's leave this last Christmas and spent it in Chicago with Ben."

"I remember. He was so thrilled that you were coming. I was, too. I couldn't get away and join him and I was glad to know that he'd have some family with him. He's so lonely, Cat."

"I know, Becka. That was partly why I went to Chicago. I had these big ideas of how I was going to fix all of Ben's problems and all I did was make things worse. At least I got to know Ray better."

"A whole **lot** better."

"Well, yes...I already said that."

"Well...is he or isn't he?"

"Is he or isn't he what?"

"Is Ray Vecchio a fantastic lover or what?"

A smug, self-satisfied smile settled onto Cat's face. She looked very much like Sheila had that very morning after depositing a large field mouse on the front porch. "As Ray would say, _'bellisimo'_." She kissed the tips of her fingers to emphasize her point.

"I knew it. I just knew it. I should've dragged him up to my room, had wild and glorious sex with him, and then drugged him!" Cat laughed out loud and Becka quickly joined her. "Damn, but I missed all the good stuff."

"Yeah, Ray was great, but..."

"...but Lloyd was better?"

Cat simply nodded her head. There was no describing how different or how much more wonderful love with your soul mate could be. All her relations up to that point paled into insignificance. She knew that, as long as she lived, there could never be another man for her. It was frightening to realize just how much she loved Lloyd Hope. Even more amazing was the fact that he loved her, too.

"You don't know how lucky you are, Cat. Sometimes I feel like...like...like I don't know." Becka drew up her knees and rested her chin on them.

Bella crossed from the settee to Cat's chair, continuing on across Cat to the table, to finally stand with front feet on the arm of Becka's chair, hind feet on the table. She nuzzled against Becka, purred loudly and rubbed her head against Becka's cheek. Becka stroked the cat and stretched her legs out once more. Bella settled onto her lap and continued to purr. 

"Bella really likes you," Cat observed. "Have you ever thought about a kitten?"

Becka continued to stroke the cat. "No. I've never had time for a pet."

"Why don't you make time. Bella's been a bad girl..."

"Look who's talking!" Becka defended the very pregnant cat.

Skewering Becka with a glare, Cat continued, "As I was about to ask, would you like one of Bella's kittens? I know you'd give it a good home."

"A kitten?" Becka scooped the cat up and gave her a hug. "What do you say, Bella? Can I have one of your kittens?" The volume of Bella's purring increased.

"That's a yes, if I ever heard one. Would you like some more milk or tea or, perhaps, a beer?" 

With her face buried in the cat's fur, Becka nodded her head. "Milk is fine, Cat."

Cat stood and, taking the glasses, went inside to the kitchen. Becka mulled over the things they had discussed before seizing on something Cat had said. When Cat returned with their milk, she asked, "What did you mean when you said you went to Chicago partly because Benny was lonely?"

"That's a long story."

"We've got plenty of time and I know you don't have duty tomorrow...so tell me. You know, I've been worried about Benny for a long time."

"Me, too. He just doesn't seem able to make the right decisions when it comes to his love life."

"What love life? From what I've seen, he has none!"

"Well, that's true now, but it wasn't always that way."

"True, but you didn't marry him. And that other woman he proposed to, Phil...Phil..." Brows furrowed in concentration, Becka tried to recall that woman's name.

"McKenzie." Cat reached for the photo she'd brought out onto the veranda with her--a photo of Phil and TJ McKenzie.

"McKenzie--that's right! Nothing came of that. And that bitch, Victoria..." 

"I know. Don't get me started on that subject." Cat continued to stare at the photo. All her plans to bring Ben and Phil together had come to naught. If anything, they were more adamant in their refusals to see each other. Finally, unable or, to be honest with herself, unwilling to handle her two friends denial of their feelings, she had divorced herself from that situation. She refused to discuss Phil with Ben and Ben with Phil. She was quite willing to discuss anything else but whenever a conversation veered in that direction she quickly ended it. It angered her to see the way both Ben and Phil refused to take any kind of step toward reconciliation--Ben blaming Phil for his loneliness and Phil grieving for Lindy and blaming Ben for her loneliness.

Glancing back up at Becka, Cat saw the questions in her eyes. "You know how it is with normal men, Becka. You know what they're like--always looking for a chance to get laid or

doing some harmless flirting. But Ben..." she sighed then continued, "Ben has smothered all those normal male urges and refuses to acknowledge that he even has them. It scares me, Becka."

"In what way, Cat?"

"I'm afraid something's going to happen to him and we won't be there to help him. You know, he once picked up a woman at a bar."

"He what?" This was definitely a side to her brother that Becka had not seen. That was alarming in itself.

"Don't worry, Becka. He came to his senses before anything happened. He visited me shortly after that." Cat recalled how she'd told Ben that Phil was available but he'd stubbornly refused to allow her to set up a meeting with Phil.

"Well, you see what I mean. He has no love life. Cat, I don't want my brother to go through life alone. And I can tell he's lonely...really lonely. Why can't he find his soul mate like you did?" Deep in the depths of her heart, she felt a twinge not realizing it was her own loneliness.

Even now Cat could feel the anger building. How could two people who still loved each other as much as Ben and Phil did be so stubborn? She caught the tail end of Becka's question. Debating with herself, she finally answered, "Soul mate? Why can't Ben find his soul mate? Becka...he met her over thirteen years ago."

"He did? Who?"

Cat passed the photo to Becka. Becka stared at the man and woman in the photo. Although not beautiful by conventional standards, the slender, dark headed woman was attractive nonetheless. She grinned crookedly at the camera. The man with his arm draped across the woman's shoulder was ruggedly handsome. His dark hair was drawn back in a short ponytail as he flashed a brilliant smile. He shared the same dark brown eyes as the woman. Those eyes seemed to hold Becka's--their depths holding a hint of passion and humor. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to Cat. "Just who is this gorgeous hunk?"

Cat grinned. She had watched Becka's intent scrutiny of the photo. Any woman with eyes in her face would be drawn to TJ. He was naturally photogenic. Honestly, Becka was almost drooling. The grin slowly faded to be replaced by a thoughtful smile. Strange, TJ had expressed an interest in Becka's photo last summer and, now, Becka was exhibiting a similar interest. Cat's sixth sense kicked in and she felt that familiar tickling that told her she was on to something important. Cat speculated on what it could mean but the only thing that made any sense was Becka and TJ. Maybe that was how she could help Becka--push her in TJ's direction. It was, definitely, an idea worth pursuing. 

"That, my dear Becka, is one very special man," she cooed.

"Another one of your lovers?" Becka coyly asked.

"Well...yes. But he is...was a very special lover." Cat drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We weren't together very long--only a few days--but those days were..." It was hard to find words to adequately express the short time she had spent with TJ.

Becka nibbled on her fig cake. "Were? Were what? You can't leave me hanging like this, Cat."

"Honestly, I'm not trying to evade the question, Becka. It's just that TJ..."

"TJ?"

"Thomas Jonathan Jackson McKenzie, to be exact."

"Wow! That's a mouthful. I can see why he goes by TJ."

Cat nodded then continued, "TJ is an incredibly wonderful man and I think I might have married him if I hadn't met Lloyd."

"Really?"

"Really."

"TJ McKenzie. That's a nice name. It has character." Becka stared at the photo once more, captured by TJ's eyes. TJ McKenzie. McKenzie? Realization dawned and Becka stared at the photo no longer seeing TJ but the woman beside him. "McKenzie? Cat...is this..?"

Cat nodded her head. "That's Phil McKenzie, Ben's soul mate."

* * *

"I want to stop by the Rocky Mountain Rescue office and check on a few things before we begin our hike," Phil spoke as she turned the jeep onto the highway and continued into the mountains. Approaching a small hamlet, she pulled off the road and parked in front of a large two-story log cabin. A tall blonde-headed man turned from the bulletin board and waved to them as they climbed out of the jeep. A broad toothy smile shown through his neatly trimmed beard.

"Jason!" Phil called as she flung herself into his waiting arms.

"Phil, damn but it's good to see you." Jason placed a loud but satisfying kiss on Phil's upturned lips.

Phil drew back from Jason's embrace. "It's good to see you, too, Jason. Here, I want you to meet a friend of mine." She reached for Casey's hand. "Casey, this is Jason Weller. Jason, Casey Sinclair."

Introductions made, hands shaken, some memories shared, the three people entered the log building.

"This is impressive, Jason."

Jason smiled. "That grant you put together for us made this building possible, Phil. That old building was on its last legs." 

Phil strolled around the large room, glancing at maps on the wall, finally nodding in agreement. "This is great. What about the dormitory?"

Jason led them to a rear entrance and out onto a large porch. Motioning towards a series of buildings visible through the trees, he said, "We decided on a series of small cabins instead. We thought it would make the trainees feel more at home."

Phil smiled as she remembered the many times Ben had **not** complained about his motel room. No wonder he spent so much time at her house. Snapping out of her reverie, she asked, "How's the training program going?"

Jason ran a hand through his hair before scratching his bearded chin. "We've got three trainees here this summer. In all, there are sixteen trainees stationed throughout the state.

Phil shook her head. "Who would've thought that that training program would catch on like it did."

"Yeah, and who would've thought that Darryl would head up the whole program?"

"And who would've thought that they'd let you run this office?" Phil joked.

"Phil, I'm hurt." Jason said as he flashed a wicked smile at Casey. Reentering the building, Jason dug through a pile of papers on a desk near the door. "Here are the weather reports and forecasts for the next week and..." He dug through a drawer, finally drawing forth a key chain. "...here's the key to Vicker's."

"Thanks, Jason." Rummaging through her small fanny pack, Phil pulled out a wallet. "How much do I owe RMR for the use of Vicker's?"

Jason smiled and shook his head. "Nothing."

"I can't let you do that, Jason."

"Let me do what? As you well know, Phil, RMR personnel are expected to use the cabins."

"But I'm not..."

Jason whipped out a duty roster. "You haven't been on active duty for over seven years but your name is still on the inactive duty roster." He smiled at Phil's reaction. "Have a good hike, Phil, and you, too, Casey."

Phil hugged Jason once more. "Thanks, Jason. I owe you." 

Jason only smiled and waved as their jeep pulled away from the log building.

"So...that was Jason. I can understand why you were attracted to him."

"Yeah, that was Jason." Phil smiled slightly as she thought about the man they'd just left. "He helped me keep my sanity when I lost Lindy. You know..." She glanced at Casey before continuing, "There are times when I wish I'd married him. Then I realize that it wouldn't have been fair to him. I still loved Ben."

Casey placed a comforting hand on Phil's arm. "It's still nice to have friends you can lean on, Phil." Phil simply nodded her head.

Pulling into the parking area for the trailhead, the two women unloaded their gear and began their trek. The trail wound downhill as it approached the river below them. Birds sang in the trees about them and the slight breeze added to the peaceful sounds that surrounded the two hikers. Soon the murmur of rushing water joined the other sounds. Sunlight sparkled on the river water visible through the trees. A last downhill stretch brought them to Miller's Crossing. Climbing the platform, Phil dropped her pack and, reaching for the cables overhead, began to draw the basket toward them. Casey joined Phil and they quickly hauled the basket to the platform.

Fastening the basket, Phil turned to Casey. "This is where I first met Ben Fraser." Digging into a pocket, she pulled out a small photograph of Ben. Passing it to Casey, she continued, "He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. It was all I could do to keep from drooling over him. I think I fell in love with him the moment I gazed into his incredibly blue eyes."

Casey stared at the photo. This was Ben Fraser? She had known all along that Phil's lost love was named Ben Fraser. What she hadn't known was the Ben Fraser that had fathered Phil's child and broken her heart was the same Ben Fraser of the ill-fated raft, the friend of Ray Vecchio. The kind, gentle man she had rescued from the river and the cad that had abandoned a pregnant Phil were one and the same. It didn't seem possible, yet, the evidence of the photo in her hand said otherwise.

Casey stared at Phil's profile. Phil was like a sister to her. She had heard the story of Phil's ill-fated love affair and the effect it had had on her life. Memories of that time over two years ago and of Cat Madden's visit this past winter made the decision for her. Everything she'd heard about Phil's long lost love and what she knew about Benton Fraser told her that there could be nothing but truthfulness between them. If she didn't tell Phil, it would come back to haunt her and perhaps destroy their friendship--something she cherished. Casey knew that Phil needed to talk to someone that could listen objectively and not feel the need to meddle. Could she do that? She would just have to try.

Handing the photo back to Phil, Casey leaned against the rail of the platform and watched Phil secret it back in her shirt pocket. "Phil?"

Phil glanced up from buttoning the pocket. "Hmmm?"

Running a hand through her hair, Casey stammered with nervousness, "Phil...um, there's um...something I need to tell you."

Concerned by the soberness of Casey's voice, Phil drew back the hand that had reached for her pack. "What is it, Casey?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I guess I'll just jump in and say it."

The corners of Phil's mouth curved ever so slightly. "Goodness, Casey, whatever it is, I'm sure it's not fatal!"

"I don't know about that," Casey murmured. Straightening, she motioned toward Phil's pocket. "About that picture," she drew in a deep cleansing breath, "I know that man." 

Phil's hand flew to cover the pocket in question. "You know him? Ben? How?" 

"Honestly, Phil," Casey temporized, "I had no idea that your Ben Fraser was the same man I got to know almost two years ago."

Phil's thoughts whirled as she tried to take in this news. "How...when did you meet him?" Phil asked, unaware of the longing in her voice.

"Do you remember me telling you about pulling those two men out of the river?"

Phil nodded her head, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. "You used that experience to write your bestseller."

"One of the men was Ben. The other was Ray Vecchio."

"Ray Vecchio?"

"Yeah, my Ray."

"I'm sorry, Casey." Phil buried her face in her hands. How ironic! The man that had abandoned Casey was a friend of the man that had abandoned her.

"Like I've said before, Phil, we have way too much in common."

Phil nodded once more then gathered her pack and placed it in the basket. Casey did the same. Neither spoke as they climbed into the basket and pushed off from the platform.

After crossing the river, the two women hiked for several hours before leaving the trail and climbing through the trees to reach the base of a rock pinnacle. Dropping their packs, they made a light lunch in the shade provided by the rock finger.

"I climbed up here to photograph this pinnacle. Ben followed me up." Phil spoke out of the companionable silence that had spread between them. "I don't know what happened. One moment I was lying on the ground and the next I was in his arms kissing him."

Casey choked on a swallow of water. Phil was not the kind to up and kiss someone so soon after meeting him. Coughing, she gasped, "Kissing him? But you had just met."

"I know. And it frightened me." Phil chuckled. "You should've seen me burn rubber away from here."

"You ran away from him?" Now this was the Phil she knew.

"Ran doesn't do what I did justice. I bolted so fast that I left my glasses with him." Phil smiled at the memory of her confusion and her haste to get away from Ben.

Casey laughed with Phil. "Your glasses? I seem to remember something about your glasses. What was it?"

Phil grinned. "I lost so many pairs of glasses in the short time I knew Ben that I gave up and got contacts. I figured they were safer." Phil brushed her hands on her knees then turned to Casey. "We can make it an early day and head to Vicker's now or we can go directly to Thunder Basin. We'd have to camp there. It would be too late to make it back up the slope and over the ridge to the cabin."

"What did you do when you came up here with Ben?"

"It was considerably later in the day so we went to the cabin. We climbed to Thunder Basin the next morning." Phil glanced at the sky and recalled the dark, storm clouds that had blanketed the sky all those years ago.

"Let's head to the cabin, then. I'd like to parallel your visit as much as possible and, if we hit Thunder Basin early in the day, we could stay longer."

"Good idea, Casey." Phil agreed as she rose to her feet. She held out a hand to Casey and helped the other woman to her feet. "We can spend the whole day there and return to Vicker's for the night. We can talk about how life's been treating us there."

Casey murmured a noncommittal reply and fell in behind Phil. She'd heard the story of how Phil had met Ben. Actually being here with Phil as she recounted her ill-fated love added life to the story. It also helped that she knew Ben Fraser as well. Ideas buzzed in her mind and she looked forward to reaching Vicker's cabin so she could spend some time with her notebook.

A little over an hour passed as the two women hiked through the mixed hardwood and coniferous forest. Phil directed them from the well-worn path to follow a small stream. Crisscrossing the stream, they passed through a water-cut and came out into small alpine basin. Snuggled in the trees to one side was a small cabin. Phil sighed with contentment. Vicker's cabin was one of her favorite places. Following the stream, they approached the small structure.

"You know, Casey..." Phil glanced over her shoulder making certain she had Casey's attention.

"Know what, Phil?"

"You know...if you should ever want to talk about Ray, I'd like to think that you could talk to me." She stopped and turned around to face her friend. Grimacing, she said, "I think that I have some experience in that area."

Casey thought about Ray and his continued absence from her life. As much as that talk with Cathy Madden had helped, Cathy had not experienced the heartbreak that came with loving a man who had left you. Phil had lived with her lost love for over twelve years. Maybe Phil was right. Maybe talking through that old love could help her set it aside and open her heart to a new love. Maybe talking with her about Ray would help her put her life in perspective. It certainly couldn't do any harm. Acknowledging her need to discuss Ray as much as Phil needed to discuss Ben, Casey smiled and nodded her head. "Isn't that what we're here for?"

Phil grinned and nodded her head. Yes, she had more than enough experience in the area of unrequited lovemore than she had ever wanted. Maybe this hike would be good for both of them. Maybe she could finally put Ben Fraser behind her and look ahead to her relationship with Martin Stevenson. Maybe Casey could put that Ray fellow behind her and move on with her life.

Still, there was a small part of her that wondered why Ben had never contacted her once Cat Madden had entered the picture. If he really loved her as much as Cat said, why did he not seek her out? No, she wouldn't let her heart be broken by Ben Fraser again. Once was more than enough.

 

To be continued (?)

Copyright June 1998 by Cassandra Hope

Comments are welcome at 

durango@ionet.net

 

Nothing Lasts Forever

(Book 2 of the  
Ben and Phil Saga)

  1. Nothing Lasts Forever
  2. Of Second Chances by Carol Trendall
  3. Winter is Cold in America by Carol Trendall
  4. Lavender Memories
  5. Distractions by Carol Trendall
  6. No Aphrodisiac by Carol Trendall
  7. Life's Insanity by Carol Trendall
  8. Standing on the Edge by Carol Trendall
  9. Of Past Regrets and Future Fears by Carol Trendall
  10. A Summoning of Things Past
  11. Three Parts Dead
  12. A Job Well Done
  13. Touchstones of Character
  14. But For the Night
  15. Tangled Webs
  16. Suspicions
  17. Chasms of the Mind (with Carol Trendall)
  18. Outskirts by Carol Trendall




End file.
